


Firework Love

by notitlesapply



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notitlesapply/pseuds/notitlesapply
Summary: Their love used to be this big bombastic thing.But the thing with feelings that burn that hot is that they burn you up, until everything is ash and smoke. (Like Zurich. Like Gabriel's body.)For AidenRamblesOn for the Reaper76 Free For All Secret Santa 2018.





	Firework Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AidenRamblesOn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidenRamblesOn/gifts).



> Notes: It's been forever since I've written pure fluff, and I've been so freaking nervous, stomach butterflies and everything. Hopefully I did alright, and AidenRamblesOn enjoys this story.

To the surprise of everyone (including Jack and Gabriel themselves) it's Jack that gets dragged kicking and screaming back to Overwatch. He wants nothing to do with the Recall. The past is the past, and despite it being dead, it continues to be painful. If it weren't for Ana (and Winston and McCree and Tracer and half a dozen other names besides) Jack would have never made contact with the new Overwatch. But, now, he finds himself back in Watchpoint: Gibraltar, trying not to feel resentful, or worse, drown in old memories.

Gabriel's return, on the other hand, is calm, almost anticlimactic, even though his time as Reaper placed him in direct conflict with the Recalled Overwatch. He simply showed up on Overwatch's doorstep, his hood down and mask off. A datapad filled with Talon's secrets, and several successful missions secured his place in Overwatch's ranks.

For the first time in years, Gabriel and Jack are in the same place at the same time not trying to shoot each other. It's...not quite good. More strange. Hollow. They're distant, without meaning to be. Seeing each other is _painful_ , an old wound that never healed right, so avoidance is preferred on both their parts.

Though, perhaps the avoidance is even more agonizing than if they had just...

Screamed at each other? Ripped each other into pieces with their bare hands? Had furious guilty hate sex?

Something. Anything.

But for now, they stay apart, away. It's not good, not healthy, but they're not ready. Not yet. (Maybe they'll never be ready.)

In another world, another life far removed from the reality he actually lived, Jack thinks that he and Gabriel could have had that happily ever after. There's a ghost of it, in his memories and in his dreams. He can close his eyes, and in an instant, he's _there_. He can see it, feel it, that better life.

Their love used to be this big bombastic thing. Back in the old days, they burned brightly together, beautiful like fireworks. Their love was a wild thing, a rash thing, because neither one of them knew if they would live to see tomorrow, and they wanted everything _now_ as much and as strong as they could get it.

But the thing with feelings that burn that hot is that they burn you up, until everything is ash and smoke. (Like Zurich. Like Gabriel's body.) Your home, your heart—just rubble and ruin. Even the memories of that beautiful firework love are jagged and sharp, full of agony when there should have been joy.

It's true what they say. You never know what you got until it's gone.

It's hard for Jack to sleep properly anymore. His bed is cold, and he's haunted with nightmares, memories, and dreamy what-ifs. More often than not, he'll drink himself into a stupor, just so he could pass out, and turn off the noise in his head for a little bit.

It doesn't help.

–

It's late at night, or perhaps, early in the morning. Sunrise is hours away, and everyone is asleep, save Gabriel. Becoming Reaper has changed many things, including the need and desire for rest. Sleep is a distant memory. Instead, Gabriel wanders the halls like a ghost, caught up in regrets until his feet finally lead him to Jack's room.

He stops in front of the door, uncertain.

It's funny, despite the distance they've placed between themselves, it's hard to truly stay away. Jack and Gabe, Gabe and Jack. They've been together for a lifetime. It's hard to recall a time when they weren't part of each other's lives. And, if Gabriel allows himself to be honest, the love they shared never went away. It wasn't all dust and nothingness. Gabriel still felt it, and he was willing to bet that Jack felt it too.

Even if what they felt towards each other wasn't dead and gone, that didn't mean that Jack would appreciate Gabriel's company. Jack hadn't invited Gabriel in, had made no indication that he wanted to mend bridges. Gabriel had to respect that. He _would_ respect that.

Just as Gabriel was about to turn around and leave, he heard a soft cry.

“Gabe...”

Gabriel froze. Jack sounded like he was in pain. Was he injured?

Letting his body collapse into smoke, Gabriel slid through the crack under Jack's door. He solidified on the other side, fearful of what he would find.

Jack didn't appear to be injured. His body wasn't bloodied or bruised. But he was curled up in a tiny bed, his face scrunched up in pain. His eyes moved rapidly beneath his closed eyelids.

Oh, Gabriel realized. Nightmare.

Gabriel doesn't even think about leaving. Jack was in pain, and Gabriel wanted to help. He knew better than to try to startle Jack awake. That was a surefire way to get punched. Quietly, Gabriel sat next to Jack, grabbed his hand, and gently rubbed the knuckles.

It was oddly...nice, to hold Jack's hand, and try to comfort him from a nightmare.

“Shhh, shhh, relax,” Gabriel crooned, trying to force his ragged vocal cords to be soothing. It sounded horrid, his rough voice continuing to echo with a sepulchral undertone. It was hardly comforting, and nothing like the smooth tones he once spoke with.

Jack, clearly, could sense the wrongness, and woke up gasping. Sweat beaded across his brow, and he was shaking. Gabriel squeezed Jack's fingers once, and went back to rubbing the thin skin over Jack's knuckles. If Gabriel couldn't be reassuring with his voice, at least he could be gentle with his touches.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Jack's breathing evened out. The quaking of his limbs died down, and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. He looked almost at peace. There was a gentling to his features that signaled that Jack was back at the cusp of slumber, and he sleepily rubbed his cheek against the hand holding his. Gabriel held his breath, a warmth growing his chest.

For a second, everything was _good._

But then Jack's eyes snapped wide open, as the realization of _who_ exactly was holding his hand hit him.

“Gabriel,” Jack said, his voice tight and flat, betraying no emotion. Any lingering traces of sleep seemed to have been wiped away, and Jack's body was stiff on the bed.

Gabriel felt torn between dropping Jack's hand like a hot coal, or holding on. He closed his eyes, bowing his head over their linked hands. He was trembling, but refused to acknowledge it.

“Please, Jack,” Gabriel breathed into the bare skin of Jack's knuckles, “Just for a little longer. Please. Please.”

Jack didn't say a word, silent with consideration. Gabriel's heart sank, and he loosened his grip. But before Jack's hand could slip away, there was a small tug, and Jack scooted to one side, offering up a wordless invitation.

Gabriel took it.

The bed was far too small to allow for two grown men. Hell, it was barely big enough for one of them. At first, they tried to keep a respectful distance between each other, but there wasn't enough space. Finally, they gave up, and pressed in close together, fully clothed. It was innocent, sweet and comforting.

Jack glanced at Gabriel, a wealth of questions burning in his eyes. Gabriel awkwardly glanced down at their hands. Their fingers were still laced together. Jack tugged gently, wordlessly, and Gabriel brought their joined hands close to his face, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

Jack no longer smelled the same. He didn't wear the cologne he used to, and the sharp tang of cheap whiskey that clung to Jack's skin was new. But if Gabriel breathed in a little deeper, and dared to press his nose against Jack's palm, he could focus on what stayed the same: fresh earth, leather, and the burnt ozone of pulse munitions.

Gabriel kept subconsciously swiping his thumb over Jack's knuckles.

There were a hundred thousand questions on both their parts. And first among them was:

What happened to us?

They would have to talk. And they would soon. They're finally ready. But right now, in this moment, it's slow and quiet. It's a time between night and dawn, and there are two bodies pressed together in a too small cot, but they're not writhing in passion. They're too tired for that. Jack needs to rest, and Gabriel needs a bit of peace that he can't find wandering hallways. Together they're just _breathing_ , luxuriating in the gentle tangle of their hands, and the comfort of an old love that didn't burn out.

It's good.

“It wasn't like this...Before,” Jack murmured, his eyes already starting to weigh down with sleep. He didn't have to explain what he meant. Gabriel knew. Their love used to be this bright thing, this wild thing, untamed and rash. This is nothing like that.

“Maybe this is how it should have been,” Gabriel said, “Maybe, this is what it should be.”

“In the future?” Jack asked, trying not to let hope drown him.

“In the now. Let's be like this...now. And tomorrow, we need to...work something out.”

Gabriel pressed a tentative kiss across Jack's fingertips. It was their first kiss in years. There was no electric sparks, no wild fireworks. Just a soft gentleness that warmed them both to their core. It was like coming home.

“Yeah,” Jack smiled and squeezed Gabriel's hand, “Yeah, I'd like that.”

 


End file.
